


Cold Turkey

by Glitznglamourd



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: 308 continued, Eventual Smut, F/F, Female Ejaculation, First Time, Forgiveness, Hotel Sex, POV Alternating, Psychopaths In Love, Shower Sex, eve processing feelings, villanelle recognizing feelings as feelings, what plot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitznglamourd/pseuds/Glitznglamourd
Summary: Eve turns around on her heels to see how far Villanelle had gotten, ready to sprint after her and plead that this was in no way what she wanted. That them living apart had clearly never been the answer. That she was positive that Villanelle, or Oksana, or whomever she chose to call herself after this, was the goddamn love of her life.updated Fridays
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 34
Kudos: 252





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I promised myself I was not going to do this. So of course I did it! Knowing they aren’t filming until spring 2021 I needed a continuation of 308. I want to get to domestic bliss, but I'm a very in canon ass thinker. The only plot is that they love each other and want to spend forever together as a healthy ass couple.

XXXXX

Eve was conflicted . . . more so tormented and even that was putting it mildly. For months now she felt as if she’d been shedding her skin and she worried about what she was becoming.

Was this a metamorphosis of the Jekyll and Hyde nature? Would she be conscious of her old self after? Was she transforming into a monster? Had she always been a monster?

She was a sensible person. Impulses be damned. She displayed ironclad will power. It wasn’t about what she wanted, but about what she was supposed to do. What a normal, sympathetic, higher level human would do. 

She did break rules, but only under the guise of bravery. Always under the cover of doing things for the greater good. This entire time, everything she sacrificed, every rule broken, every person she disregarded had been to protect the free world from a group of terrorists. She was a mutherfucking superhero. 

Now, Carolyn is telling her to go “cold turkey.” Eve wasn’t sure what the hell that was supposed to even mean. Carolyn’s own son had been led straight to the slaughter. Apparently his murder had now been avenged and Carolyn was moving on. How could anyone move on? 

So many lives lost, so many secrets exposed. Secrets about Eve’s own nature. An essential piece to her vitality that had been stifled for so many years she had no clue it even existed.

It sat dark and void, hidden from sight, but always longing. It was a cold empty pit that had no name. Until Villanelle breathed life and warmth into it. Now not only was it revitalized, but it was also greedy and desperate and wanting. Eve had no clue who she was anymore.

Barley a year ago Villanelle had shot her. She can still feel the sting of the bullet piercing through her shoulder blade and instead of anger it is nothing but remorse that highlights the memory. She wishes she could take everything she’d said in Rome back and complicity run away with Villanelle. Although, she knows that they were not ready then. She was not ready. 

There was a big part of her that yearned to experience the thrill of killing. The rush of power it would give you. The ability to exert complete control over another person, where their life was literally in your hands.But her debut murder in Rome had been done out of fear, paralyzing gut clenching fear. 

She had no control. She was forced into action as she desperately needed to protect Villanelle. The extent of these feelings left Eve repulsed. 

How could she value Villanelle’s life to the exclusion of everyone else's? So she lashed out and insisted to be set free. She could be true to herself. Not this evil thing she had become, but it turns out the genesis follows a linear timeline. There was no changing back.

Their story was twisted and sordid, but Eve had pushed Villanelle too far while denying her too much. This was the burden she’d been loath to carry all these months alone. How could her life have meaning without Villanelle in it?

The answer seemed crystal clear given the present situation. It didn’t. Her life was Villanelle now. 

Eve was sure she’d been holding her breath for an entire two minutes. Why was she walking away? She didn’t want to leave Villanelle. In the months between Rome and now, she can say with certainty that she is in love with Villanelle. Not in love with the idea of this gorgeous alluring female assassin, but the true woman behind the facade. The wounded genius. The sympathetic lover. 

Underneath all the layers of pomp and bravo was an intelligent, sarcastic, immature, funny, caring, insanely beautiful ever evolving young woman who also dared to return Eve’s affections.

The charade was up. The past three years had never been about finding the 12. It had been about getting closer to Villanelle. Being able to be with her without the risk of being with her. She could be done with the 12 now.

She was in no way done with Villanelle yet. 

This realization makes her stop dead in her tracks. She turns around on her heels to see how far Villanelle had gotten, ready to sprint after her and plead that this was in no way what she wanted. That them living apart had clearly never been the answer. That she was positive that Villanelle, or Oksana, or whomever she chose to call herself after this was the goddamn love of her life. 

And there Villanelle stood with her back toward her unmoving. Picturesque in the most annoying golden shade of yellow that only Villanelle dare pull off. Even with the gap between them her presence filled up the entire bridge. 

Villanelle knew her so well, she must have known that Eve would never leave her again? Not like this, not ever. Villanelle turned around slowly and their eyes met immediately. She smirked in a lopsided grin and all of Eve’s emotions bubbled up to the surface.

“You’re such an asshole! You tell me to walk away and yet you’re waiting for me to turn around?” Eve wasn’t angry in the slightest. Relief was flooding her system with dopamine leaving her light headed and optimistic. 

The outburst doesn’t faze Villanelle. Her face still remains neutral. 

“I’m making sure you are serious.” There was no sarcasm to her tone, but Eve scoffed anyway and Villanelle took it as an invitation to narrow the gap between them. “This is your time. Time for you to decide what it is you want. I know what I want. Well . . . at least when it comes to you.” 

Eve’s mind felt like it was on the verge of combusting. Who was this woman before her? Seriously, who was this woman with controlled rational thoughts, who would give Eve her freedom despite her own desires?

“What’s happened to you?”

“I don’t want to wake up to you stabbing me because I wouldn’t let you go. No matter how bad I want you to stay.”

“Seriously. What else has happened?”

Villanelle becomes thoughtful for a moment. Her eyes drift off before coming back into focus.

“What has not happened to me is a much better question.”

They now stand mere inches apart. Villanelle exhales and Eve feels the warmth of it on her cheeks. The cloud of uncertainty that only seconds ago filled her dissipates that instant. 

Eve indulges her senses. She can see their entire life together played out in a series of colorful vignettes. There are lazy Sunday mornings in a home that belonged to both of them, but was clearly decorated by Villanelle. There were messy arguments over couple things that could only be resolved by passionate love making. A lot of kissing. A lot more love making. 

She finds herself lost in the gentle perfume wafting off of Villanelle’s skin. She is stunningly beautiful, even under the garish street lights that shine unapologetically above them. That cold now warm part of her sparks her to action and Eve speaks quickly lest she be silent forever. 

“I am in love with you.” She admits in a huff with wide determined eyes. “Do you understand what that means?” It’s not an accusation, but a genuine question and Villanelle answers a little too quickly.

“I do.” But then her brows knit together thoughtfully, “I think, but I might not really.” She laughs in a nervous way that shows all of her teeth and Eve knows how sincere she is.

“It means if you jump, I'm jumping too.”

“Jesus Eve. No one is jumping. I am not suicidal and you shouldn’t be either.”

“Okay fine, I only mean that, I don’t care if it is dangerous. I don’t care if I shouldn’t. I- ”

“Eve,” Villanelle starts, effectively cutting her off. “I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re brilliant. I think you’re good for me and I know I haven’t always been, but I think I can be good for you . . . I want to be good with you. Is that what you call love?” 

They were two sociopaths (psychopaths?) in love. How was that even fucking possible? 

“Come here.” Eve manages to puff out in a breath and it is all Villanelle needs before dipping her head to meet the tiny woman’s mouth. Eve can feel Villanelle’s chest heaving with anticipation and she smiles wide, utterly drunk with happiness. 

Their first kiss begins with timid approaches, a small peck upon her lips as if testing what Eve would allow. Villanelle’s lips are soft and her mouth is inviting. She opens her mouth slightly, allowing Eve to slip her tongue along the flesh of her upper lip and gently press inside. 

She tastes of candy, tangfastics to be specific, and Eve wonders briefly if she too raided Bear’s stash during her visit to the Bitter Pill before her mind explodes in satisfaction. 

Everything is so warm. And Villanelle smells so good. Her lips are perfect and plush and smooth. Villanelle hums when Eve nibbles on her lower lip and Eve wants more from her. So much more than can possibly be given to her along the side of a busy public bride. 

Still she can't stop her mouth from traveling to Villanelle’s neck. She’s always been most fascinated with it and she had been eyeing a spot a couple inches under her right ear. Her teeth sink into it as her lips quickly follow up to sooth it. 

She wills her heart beat to even as excitement and pleasure overwhelm her senses. She clings to Villanelle, her arms drape across either shoulder and she moves to press their bodies impossibly closer. As if to assure that this moment is tangible and not a waking dream. Maybe it is a dream because time becomes unimportant. When they pull back both of their faces are tinted pink. Eve’s head is spinning, her heart is full, and her toes are tingling with satisfaction. 

“Wow.” Eve manages as she tries in vain to catch her breath with her heart beating in her throat. 

“I know I’m an amazing kisser, but Eve . . . you’ve got skills.” The smirk is back and it is going to drive Eve wild for the rest of her life apparently.

“It’s best because you’re crazy about me.” Villanelle does not deny it. In fact, she growls pulling Eve against her again and this time there is no hesitance or politeness. It is rough and dominating. Her fingers thread through Eve’s hair pulling luxuriously at her scalp and it makes Eve’s knees go weak. She moans into the blonde’s mouth and wonders how they waited so long to give into the inevitable. Villanelle releases her with a soft peck to her lips, her eyelashes fluttering against Eves before releasing her completely. 

“So . . . what now?” Eve’s body knew what it wanted and her mind knew there wasn’t time. With the cluster fuck at Carolyn’s and Villanelle’s insistence that she was out of the game. The vision of their life together blurred from the uncertainty. 

“The plan was for me to leave with Konstantin.”

“You were leaving me?” Eve squeaks. It was not like her to sound needy, but the mere mention of losing Villanelle again sent her brain into dark places.

“I didn’t think you loved me back. Unrequited love . . .is devastating, you know?” 

Eve held her gaze. Silently communicating that no matter how much she had resisted their connection had never been one sided. 

“So you two were moving to Alaska and what? You’d become salmon fishermen?” 

“Ha Ha. Very funny Eve. I’m done killing. I swear! Not even fish. I plan on being a vegetarian from now on. I hope you’re okay with that.” Villanelle sucks at her teeth as she is quite aware that she is getting off topic. “Alaska was my plan for us.” She points between Eve and herself. “He’d planned an escape to Cuba, but it is much better that we are not with him. I think . . .”

“You think?”

“Yeah well he has all the money.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle grapples with the depth of her new found emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kudos and comments on chapter 1! Your enjoyment means the world to me. Welcome back for chapter 2. Creative license with Eve’s backstory. It’s not so ooc imo. Do know I’m just making things up as I go! Enjoy Villanelle’s POV.

Villanelle had been told all of her life that she was a psychopath. It was an easy thing to accept as she totally fit the bill. 

Glaring lack of empathy? Check. Inability to distinguish between right and wrong? Check. Tendency to lie often? Double Check. 

So she did not question the diagnosis, opting instead to look at it as a sort of super power. It was a trait that benefited her survival, a trait that made her special. Until a recent visit home illuminated the shaded history of her youth.

It was a sobering reality. Finally understanding that she exhibited psychotic behaviors not because she was unique, but because her mother was also a psychopath. 

As Villanelle evaluated the evidence laid before her, she’d been a victim since birth. Her mother had taught her the art of a lie, as it was the only way to protect her true feelings from being manipulated. This in turn taught Villanelle not to feel, for emotion only brought uncontrollable pain.

Basically, she’d been taught from an early age what was wrong was right and what was right was wrong. She had never stood a chance of being “normal.”

Eve had been right all those months ago. What did she know about love? Who had been there to teach her about such a complicated emotion? 

Unlike the cashmere Loewe cape currently adorning her lithe frame, Eve was not a property to be owned. It took believing she killed the woman to understand that and to understand that she didn’t want this life anymore. A life where she followed her own capricious nature into an oblivion of boredom. 

To be honest she never wanted it, all the killing, she was just really really good at it. 

Of course she would finally reconcile with Eve during this tumultuous time of self discovery. She should be focusing on Eve and their budding relationship . . . All these years of wanting a normal romance.

No not normal. She and Eve would never be normal.

All these years of wanting Eve, of desperately craving her, of obsessing over their shared affection, to now have her admitting her love.

They should be celebrating! She should at least be implementing a plan of seduction, but she couldn’t focus on them until she figured out herself. 

“Are you going to eat that?” Eve questions eyeing the now tepid fries piled upon her plate. Villanelle’s healthy appetite had been replaced with something she could not explain. She felt full, on the verge of puking, though she had not eaten real food in over 48 hours.

She was worried and that uncertainty left her vulnerable and vulnerability never looked good on her. Though apparently, feeling things as a human was a good thing. She longed for the days when she cared for nothing. 

“Villanelle?” Eve questioned again with a hint of annoyance polished by concern. “I’ve never known you to be the quiet one.”

Eve was happy and a happy Eve was a talkative Eve. She’d been chatting non stop on their walk from the bridge to this nondescript cafe. The conversation had centered mostly on their experience with Carolyn earlier that evening, a topic that Villanelle had already become bored with.

Eve reaches across the space between them, her small hand cupping Villanelle’s cheek. Still she barely responds, save pushing her plate forward to allow Eve better access before slipping back into her head. 

Why hadn’t she thought about money sooner? She had blown an alarming amount of her emergency stash over the last year in a blind grief. This is how she ended up engaged (married?) to the rich Spanish idiot.

How was she supposed to take care of Eve without any money? What would they do? Where would they live? She barely had enough liquid cash to cover this cheap excuse for a meal. 

Okay that was being dramatic. She had money for the meal, but passports, travel visas, and bribe money, she had none of that. 

“Seriously Villanelle, you’re freaking me out. Talk to me.”

Silence.

It is not that she was ignoring Eve. She never heard her in the first place. The words of her mind could be so deafening that they cancelled out the world around her. 

“I know you’re not new to relationships per se, but in healthy relationships we discuss our feelings. The good stuff and especially the bad.”

Villanelle barely caught anything save for “healthy relationships” . . . yes this is what she wanted. Healthy. And so she decided to try something novel. 

“I told you,” She began huffing out of exasperation “Konstantin had the plan and all the money. I have no plan and I am not as secure as I would like.” 

Eve laughs. She laughs out right and it upsets Villanelle. Here she is trying out new shit, talking out her feelings and Eve's response is to laugh in her face. She makes an abrupt move from the booth only to have Eve tug her back down by the wrist. 

“Villanelle! Honey, I’m not laughing at you.” Villanelle scoffs in lieu of the pet name which she must admit is nice. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but I have money. I have all the money.” 

“You have so much money that you have to work in a kitchen, live in a rat hole, and wear polyester sweaters?”

“Wow! Tell me how you really feel.” The brows on Eve’s face pull back in such a way where Villanelle can not tell if she is offended or impressed. “Are you done offending me? Can I continue?” 

So it was a look of offense. Possibly indignation. Villanelle thinks of a lot more things she could point out. They mainly center on clothing and as much as she hated Eve’s style she couldn’t help but find anything she wore to be adorably her and so she conceded. 

“I apologize. I’m stressed. I don’t care about any of that.”

“I know.” Eve leans in and kisses her softly on the lips as if it is the most natural thing in the world and for a second Villanelle’s mind stops. “You’re forgiven.”

Apology accepted. It is that easy. There is nothing and no one except the promise of Eve’s attention. She thinks that maybe being poor wouldn’t be so bad. If Eve could elicit all this hope from an innocent kiss they could be happy in spite of everything . . . 

She has to blink a couple of times to see straight again. Her mind went soft and her body wants to hold on to the comfort of trusting another person. Villanelle is ready to divulge it all. The real reason for her angst. Sure money is one thing, but her mother is (was?) an entirely different beast. Eve continues before she sums up the courage.

“I might possibly have an enormous trust fund that I’ve never touched because . . . How do I say this? I really hate my mother.”

“What?” Villanelle laughs awkwardly with her hazel eyes now wide and manic. 

The 180 in attitude is not from an unclaimed trust, but from Eve hating her mother. They were literal soul mates. How didn’t she know this?

“How long were you going to wait to tell me?”

“I thought you knew, with you stalking me for the past few years.”

Villanelle had no rebuttal because she had quite literally stalked Eve and many of her associates. “I dunno . . . recon isn’t my thing.”

Eve eyes her suspiciously because, in fact, reconnaissance is totally her thing. 

“Alright, I knew about the money . . . I figured you had your reasons.”

“Then can you stop being weird? I’d never touch it for myself, but . . . we are being honest and we don’t have to live poor. I have at least 7 million at my disposal.” She nonchalantly tosses a half eaten fry back onto the plate, waiting for Villanelle to speak again. 

“You’re serious?”

“You don’t seem to be in a joking mood.” Eve deadpans. 

“Not about the money. Your mother?” Eve still isn’t following her line of thought so she plainly asks, “You hate your mother?”

“Well duh. That’s literally what I just said to you. Now will you please eat something?” 

Villanelle sighs, partially out of relief. It was nice to know that Eve wasn’t opposed to using her inheritance. The options she had contemplated for cash were very bleak and totally involved killing. It was literally all she knew, which sent her down a shame spiral that seemed endless. 

Her appetite did not return. In fact she feels more ill. There is suddenly an immense pressure to confess and it starts to spill out like word vomit. 

“I killed my mother and her new family!” She screams, each word rushing out of her mouth before she could dare stop them. Half the restaurant is now looking at them and wow she feels better already. 

It was Eve's turn to laugh again, this time out of shock.

“It is not funny Eve!” 

“Sorry, I - I just - I thought she was already dead?”

“She was a very evil woman.”

“Evil enough to rise from the dead?”

“Don’t be dense. She was never dead. Well she is now, but she had to be stopped!” Villanelle pauses for a moment as she expects for Eve to say something snarky, but to her surprise Eve stays quiet. Her eyes are sympathetic as she waits for Villanelle to continue.

“I had questions about things . . . about why I am the way I am. You know?”

And it looks like Eve does know because she is nodding her head and it encourages Villanelle to dig deeper. To give her more. 

“I grew up knowing I was different. People always wanted me to give them these “feelings” that did not exist. So I created them and then people started calling me crazy.”

“Go figure.” Eve sarcastically supplies and Villanelle laughs in spite of herself. 

“It sounds idiotic I KNOW, but I met you. I had no clue what any one thing was supposed to feel like and then I felt everything all at once. And you ask questions! You ask real questions! I never ask questions.”

The thought seems disjointed but it is one and the same. Reasons why being with Eve just made sense. 

“Why ask questions when you don’t care about the answers.”

Villanelle slams her fist down on the table out of excitement because of course Eve would understand. 

“Exactly Eve. Exactly! You ask me questions and I never know the answers. Now I start wanting answers so I start asking questions. I start getting answers to questions I didn’t ask and a lot more questions.”

“Questions about your family?”

“Yes them and me. More about me. . . Emotions are overrated.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Konstantin needed a favor and so he gave my family to me as a bribe . . . I - I’ve always known I was different, but I was not always a monster. I’ve been playing a monster. Obviously I am very talented and quite scary.” She smiles at this but only briefly. “I did not start out that way. My insane mother made me a monster and I believed her.”

“Maybe you should have killed her sooner?”

“Eve!” Although she did have a point . . . No. Eve was supposed to be upset. She was supposed to hold Villanelle accountable for her actions. “It had to be done but it doesn’t feel like an acceptable option.”

“Going down that rabbit hole will drive you insane.” Villanelle can feel her eyes bulge at the mention of insanity. Monster or not she still wasn’t sure how sane she was. “The past is the past and it has shaped who you are, but it can’t define you unless you let it.” 

Could it really be that simple? Who would she even be once she shed the damage of her youth? She guarded her true self by burying it deep. Layer after layer of steel wall. Some with trick doors and others fail safes in case somehow someone should breach the protection.

She then created an entirely different persona to live out her day to day. Again insanity or not it had been working okayish for her. The mask she displayed as her true self had latched atop of her skin. Over time they bleed into the other and are now virtually inseparable. 

“You still have that manic look in your eyes.” Eve brushes the back of her hand under Villanelle’s chin fixing her gaze. “You are the strongest woman I know. If you break now she wins. You should win.”

“I should win?”

“Yes, you should win, damn it.” It is a fierce command that Villanelle accepts and obeys. She was very good at winning games so it is pretty obvious that winning should be the point here too. 

“Okay, so I won. Why don’t I feel better?”

“Guilt doesn’t work like that . . . You’ve got to forgive yourself and then you can move on.”

Through the maze of her emotions they had somehow, finally, encountered the root of Villanelle’s angst. 

Eve was beautiful in an effortless way. The subtle plumpness of her lips, the fullness of her cheeks, and the enchanting slant of her eyes made for a devastating vision. She wasn’t even trying. This was Eve being herself. Villanelle could watch her all day. Had watched her all day like a creeper in the shadows and she had come to highly value her opinion in most things. 

She teased her for it, but she admired her will power. Had often been jealous of her restraint. She didn’t care anything about forgiving herself. She cared everything about Eve forgiving that monstrous part of her that always seemed to take control. 

“Do you forgive me?” The words are distorted as Villanelle is holding back tears. God, she had never cried so much in her life. 

“For what exactly Villanelle? You have never apologized for anything.”

It stings because it is true. It is also rather embarrassing and it makes Villanelle respond defensively. 

“Well, neither have you.”

“I have not.” Eve agrees stubbornly. 

This was not going according to plan so Villanelle takes a deep breath and decides to be brave. She reaches forward to bring Eve’s hands into her own and kneels before her lap. 

“I am sorry for everyone. For killing your friend Bill. I knew he was sort of important to you, but I regret it because it made you fear me.” 

Eve sucks her teeth and declares incredulously, “You fed off of me fearing you at first.”

“Okay. Yes. But this made you cling to your husband. It was stupid.”

“So you should apologize for trying to manipulate me in the first place.”

“Okay yes! And that brings us to Rome. I am sorry for manipulating you.”

Eve’s face softens. “You were different after Paris . . . More careful with me. I did not see it at the time. I was not very kind. I would have shot me too.”

“I will never hurt you again.”

“You can’t promise that.” Eve insists “It’s my life you know? You’re essentially apologizing for the last three years of my life.”

“I know. I am sorry Eve.” 

“Yeah well. I am sorry for forcing you to work for MI6. I should have just asked you out on a date.”

Villanelle’s eyes light up at this admission and she unconsciously licks her lips because damn it Eve is right again. She catches Eve eyes dropping down to her mouth and it eggs her on in a different direction. 

“You were an adorable kill commander. I should have fucked you the day you hired me. That was me giving you space.” She wanted to be the one to break Eve’s restraint. She had wanted Eve to beg for it, but she had miscalculated Eve's resolve. It left her horny for weeks after. 

“I 100% would have let you. I wonder what that would have looked like after.”

Villanelle sighs thoughtfully, “we’d both be dead by now.”

“Yeah. I was even more of a mess back then. It wouldn’t have been good.”

Eve gathers her hair in her hand. Pulling it back off of her face in a nervous way. There is a heavy pause before she speaks again. 

“Look Villanelle. I am a work in progress. I am still trying to forgive myself. To give myself grace to allow myself forgiveness. I want to offer this to you too. And so I do. I do forgive you.”

Villanelle moves instinctively after that. She invades Eve’s side of the booth forcing her down onto her back as their lips meet in a kiss. The heavy weight in her stomach evaporates into the ether. Eve had forgiven her. 

Villanelle pulls back giving Eve space to wiggle back upright and Eve smiles brightly and gathers Villanelle’s hands back into her own. She believed Eve. She trusts Eve, though she still couldn’t help the twinge of doubt.

Eve must have read her mood because her hands are back on Villanelle’s face. Eve nose nuzzles against her own in a comforting gesture that melts Villanelle’s cold stone heart to goo. 

“I don’t love you in spite of who you are . . . you understand that right? Not this deadly assassin shit that’s been exploited. It’s more than that for me. You notice things about me. This attention to detail that brings out the vibrancy in everything you’re involved in. You’re powerful, and thoughtful and spontaneous and so damn beautiful it’s not even fair. . . And monster to monster, In regards to your mother I think it is fine to smite those who exploit you.”

Eve loved her, had apparently forgiven her, and didn’t give a fuck about her killing her mother. Villanelle’s appetite returned twofold. She pulls the plate back in front of her before grabbing a fist full of cold fries and stuffing them all into her mouth.

“Very sexy.” Eve comments and it was almost as if she was serious. Villanelle takes her time swallowing before slowly licking her lips and directing her focus to the woman next to her.

“Quite Cold. I can think of something warm I’d rather be eating.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. 

“But you ordered a veggie wrap! I told you to get the panini.” Villanelle snorts at Eve’s innocence and for her part she catches on quickly, “Oooh. You mean me. You’d rather be eating me. Well . . . so you know I haven’t had a shower in days.”

“Days?” 

“I’ve taken - it doesn’t matter. I need a full shower and a full bed . . . With you in it.” Eve’s attempt at flirting is playful and Villanelle wonders how long she’ll be able to keep her cool once they are alone together in this aforementioned bed. 

“Thank you for making me talk to you. I feel better.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for apologizing. I feel better too.” Eve takes the moment to lean in close, pressing another one of her trademark gentle kisses upon Villanelle’s lips. 

The touch is so soft and earnest that Villanelle feels helpless. The sense of yearning, that her worry had been suppressing, surged through her entire being. It pulled fourth sensations she never knew herself to be capable of feeling. 

Villanelle, who is finally feeling much more like herself, pushes the kiss into the realm of indecency. Her tongue pressing into Eve’s warm mouth with renewed confidence. She feels Eve surrender to her sudden dominance as she becomes pliable to the touch. As if they could melt into each other. 

“Let’s find someplace for us to stay tonight.” Villanelle husks out, her wet lips grazing Eve’s ear. “I have enough money for that at least.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our couple checks into a hotel for the night. Eve's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays and/or Merryyy Christmas if you’re into that sort of thing. Thank you again for your kudos, subscriptions, and comments! I am an American and I found myself trying to write an inconsequential bit about money and had no idea how the currency in England works. Quid? Notes? Pounds? 100 pound notes? No? So if I f’ed it up, know I did try.

“The Four Seasons is not a mid range hotel.” Eve chastises as she steps through a row of roman styled columns and into the opulent lobby of the ridiculously priced luxury chain. Luxury tended to accost Eve with painful flashes of her childhood. She made a conscious effort to shake off the feeling, and it was easy to do with Villanelle’s hand in her own, encouraging her along cheerfully. 

“Who said anything about midrange? Save that for when we have to travel with our children.”

“You want children?” Eve blurts out. She is taken aback. Her heart stops for a beat and her chest clenches in panic. 

“You don’t?” 

Eve can’t tell if Villanelle is joking and she finds herself upset that she would ever think Eve would want kids. It was obvious that she did not. She’d been married, to a man, for years and avoided it like the plague. For years Niko had begged her incessantly and finally one day, (after finding Eve’s empty birth control container in the trash for the third month in a row,) he let go of his dreams of becoming a father. Eve never saw herself as a mother. She didn’t want to be responsible for fucking the child’s life up.

“I guess not no.” 

Eve is trying not to sound affected and is failing miserably. She hears the words as they come out of her mouth and her tone is all over the place.

_“i guess not.”_

She guesses?! Here she thought she knew for sure! Children with Villanelle? She’d never thought about that before and maybe . . . no no it is utter insanity. They would definitely fuck up their kid’s life. 

Villanelle keeps her frivolous demeanor and accepts the challenge with a wink. “I have time to change your mind.”

She is light and playful and Eve can’t help but smile as she notes the marked improvement in the blonde’s mood. She was back to her old ways of being oddly present and hyper aware of Eve’s every move. She kisses the knuckles of Eve’s hand before separating their fingers to check into the hotel. It is the first time Villanelle has parted her side since leaving the cafe and Eve feels an acute sense of loss. Which is quite ridiculous. Villanelle was maybe three steps in front of her, completely in her line of sight, safe and sound. 

Stepping up to the reservation desk Villanelle procures a fake ID from her wallet. Apparently tonight she is Leora Bouton, a french aristocrat on holiday with her lover. Eve’s french is decent enough to keep up appearances. She throws in a few “Ouis” and couple “Merci beaucoups” for good measure and everything seems to be going well enough. 

The receptionist asks for a credit card to put on file and Eve wonders how this will work. It is a seamless transaction. Villanelle pulls a giant wad of 50 pound notes out from under her cape, declaring she will pay in cash for everything. Eve didn’t even know such a thing was possible, but the receptionist asks no questions. He simply gives her the cash amount and waits for Villanelle to count it out and present it to him. 

It makes Eve question what being poor meant in Villanelle’s world, but Villanelle had a plan to distract this train of thought. Her hands slip into the sides of Eve’s puffer coat and she kisses her assuredly on the lips. One soft peck, then another, then one that lasts longer. Villanelle makes a show of fawning over Eve, wrapping her arms around the woman’s slender waist and nuzzling the skin of Eve’s neck. Villanelle is so bold in her want and as against public affection as Eve formerly claimed to be, she finds she doesn’t mind as much when it is Villanelle showering her with affection.

“Ahem.”

Eve jumps back at the intrusion. A man with steel blue eyes watches them carefully. His uniform indicates that he is the concierge and his badge reads Bernie in a bold dark print. 

“Madame Burton and guest?” He motions between the pair “If you would follow me to your room please.”

Villanelle separates herself from Eve again, but this time only briefly. She loops their arms together as they follow Bernie to the elevator. 

Soon enough they are granted key cards to their suite. The room itself is understated and quite larger than she had expected. Its muted hues of blue and gray are a stark contrast to the gaudy reds and golds that adorned the leading hallways. They step into a small foyer that gives way to a living room. It is decorated with two plush white couches and a circular glass table that holds a magnificent winter bouquet of white roses and holly berries.

The concierge pauses in the threshold and gives Eve a look. She is seconds away from asking why he thinks he deserves a tip when they had no bags for him to bring, but Villanelle moves swiftly. She slips a few notes into his palm with little thought and he thanks her kindly before going on his way. Eve finds the entire exchange irksome.

“Never complain to me about money again. Miss I'm so worried about our finances I can’t eat, but I’ll casually book a penthouse suite at a 5 star hotel.” 

“Don’t tease me Eve.” Villanelle pouts as she flops down onto the nearest couch. “I’ve had a challenging day.” 

“I am not teasing you. I’m serious.”

“You’re serious?” Villanelle challenges with her mouth hanging open, “This isn’t the penthouse, not even close.” 

Eve huffs in frustration because Villanelle knows exactly what she means, but if she wants to play coy she will spell it out plainly for her.

“My hyperbole serves to say that you’re impulsive.”

Villanelle shrugs her shoulders and her unreadable face is now visibly annoyed. 

“So. It’s fine to splurge every once and awhile.”

“Splurging is why you have no money now.” Eve counters and Villanelle says nothing, but the warmth behind her eyes fades and her focus drifts. It was as if she was seeing through her. So Eve continues to defend her stance in a less accusatory direction. 

“I don’t need all this,” She motions to the lavishly decorated room with its floor to ceiling windows and heavy drapery. “You are impressive enough you know?”

Villanelle’s scowl softens the smallest bit as her eyes focus back into place. “Are you intentionally trying to pick a fight with me?”

Eve was stressed the fuck out. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Eve moves to sit next to Villanelle. All of the fight drained from her as she realizes she was picking a fight and she has no real reason to. She takes a deep breath.

This was an indulgence, their first night together. There was no need to be judgmental. They were past that. Eve could be expensive, would be expensive if only to please the woman of her dreams.

“I am going to take a shower.” Eve announces suddenly as she makes a hasty retreat for the bathroom only it’s a closet. Villanelle points her in the right direction with an exasperated look and Eve can barely make eye contact with her as she follows her pointed finger toward the actual bathroom door. 

The bathroom is magnificent. She’d forgotten how lovely posh hotel amenities could be. Everything is marble from the floor to the tub. A waterfall shower is nestled in the corner to the left and there are mirrors everywhere. On the back of the door and splayed across the front wall. The lighting too was immaculate, too good for a woman of Eve’s age. It made her feel exposed. 

The expectation for tonight was that they have sex. At least Eve hoped to whatever deity was still taking her prayers that she got to have sex with Villanelle tonight. It had been the most epic slow burn, spanning over three years. She wanted Villanelle in the most primal of ways, but there was still a sticky voice plaguing her resolve, would Villanelle still want her after? 

Eve was ten years Villanelle’s senior and everyday Eve’s body found new ways to betray her, a frown line, an age spot, a couple of extra pounds, and she swears her breasts are getting smaller. While Villanelle was a goddess, and we know what happens to mortals who get involved with gods. 

Part of their allure was the fantasy . . . A forbidden love, an unavailable lover. Would the need be the same once they consummated their physical relationship?

As Eve strips down to shower her anxiety only escalates. She has none of her trusted hair supplies so her curls were going to be an unruly mess once they dried. She hadn’t shaved in months, legs, underarms, bikini, they were all out of control. Even her toenails were in need of a polish and trim. How had she let herself go so desperately? 

There was a soft knock at the door and before Eve could grant entrance Villanelle popped inside stating, “Room service.” 

In the few minutes that she left Villanelle to her own devices she had changed out of her clothing and donned a fluffy gray robe with the Four Seasons emblem stitched onto the left breast. She brandished a bottle of champagne, that Eve noted would have cost more than her former house note, and two flutes. 

“What is happening here?” 

The blonde demands as dominates the space with her presence. She eyes the nervous wreck that is Eve in her underwear, a simple black bra and a pair of purple cotton briefs.

Eve was usually very confident about her body. Even the extra pounds on her butt gave shape to the gentle swell of her hips that in turn served to exaggerate the thinness of her waist. It was everything else. From the material of her undergarments to the general lack of care for herself that she was now ashamed of. 

For years she had taken her femininity for granted and being in the presence of Villanelle illuminated that fact to shameful levels. She looked down at Villanelle’s feet and found that her toes were painted a demure shade of glossy pink. When did she find the freaking time for a pedicure? Eve tried not to look too shaken as she compiled a reasonable excuse for her frazzled appearance. 

“I was getting ready for a shower, but then I figured I had time for a bath?”

Villanelle eyes her suspiciously, one eyebrow raising up to her hairline. 

“Since you look depressed, I’ll start by being the bigger person and forgiving you for being obnoxious. I come in peace and bear gifts. Also, there’s always time for a bath.”

Eve manages a not too nervous laugh, “Forgiveness is our new theme hun?”

“We are supposed to be happy.” 

“I am happy.” Eve responds instantly

“Are you sure babydoll? Your happy face is all frowny.” 

Eve regards the other woman carefully. Her skin glistens against the lighting. Everything appears so soft and smooth. As strong and formidable as Villanelle presents she is also delicate. More like a bomb than a flower, but still something to be handled with great care. Villanelle is the epitome of power and femininity. 

“Come on Eve talk to me!” Villanelle whines, stomping her feet in the way a small child might pander to get their way. Eve doesn’t have anything more to say without harping on insecurities that she is currently pretending don’t exist. 

“Fine, don’t talk to me.” Villanelle places the flutes upon the sink’s countertop and proceeds to expertly uncork the champagne bottle with a muted pop. “I will still be invested in your happiness.” She hands Eve a flute. “Drink this while I run your bath.” 

“Y -you don’t have to do that.” Eve stumbles 

“Ssh.” Villanelle’s finger presses upon Eve’s lips, silencing her into submission. “I want to.” 

Eve holds back the urge to bite the finger. It was surely her sexual frustration rearing its head and Villanelle being Villanelle would totally find it a turn on and Eve is in no way ready yet.

She then has to redirect all of this energy. She hops up onto the sink’s countertop before completely downing the glass of champagne. It is deliciously dry, the bubbles pop on her tongue before sliding smoothly down her throat. She pours another glass and downs it just as quickly. Though that decision is turning out to be a bit of a miscalculation as now she’s trying her damndest to suppress the urge to burp.

“Belch.” There is a second of mortification because here she is trying to tap into her femininity, but Villanelle laughs. A genuine laugh where her lips almost disappear and her teeth take over her mouth. 

“There you go!” She encourages and it causes Eve to laugh too, finally relaxing a bit. Villanelle had been obsessed with her, in her shitty clothing and general unkempt appearance. She found Eve attractive on the most off of days. Had had her hands in Eve’s pants on their taxi ride here and Eve had yet to shower. The allure was clearly deeper than any wax or manicure. 

Villanelle kneels to reach the tap and turn the water on. Eve watches her curiously as she places her hand underneath the spigot, checking that the temperature was sufficient. She nods to herself when she deems it warm enough. 

Eve is mildly confused as to how they ended up here. This is what she had been fighting for. Hand drawn baths and countless indulgences with her would be lover. 

Villanelle’s robe climbed up the back of her thighs as she leaned over the side of the tub to swirl the water with her hands. It is barely a glimpse, because the next second she’s sitting back on her heels, but Eve takes note of her lack of underwear. It was very hair free. 

“Why don’t you tell me what is going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

Villanelle’s voice makes Eve jump. She’d been imagining very dirty, very lewd things. Her mind had her hands and mouth exploring the smooth skin between Villanelle’s swollen lower lips. Eve had this idea of possessing Villanelle. The woman was so fucking cocky and damn it if Eve didn’t want to exert her own control over Villanelle’s body. There were surely things she’d yet to discover and Eve wants to be the one to uncover them. 

Villanelle is still so young. Eve had found that as a woman there’s a type of sexual assuredness that develops with age. When properly cared for it matures like fine wine. All the textbooks would say that a woman of Eve’s age have entered into her sexual prime. She had spent years unsatisfied with lovers until she learned to take what she wanted. It’s not that she wants to take things from Villanelle, she wants to give her something to take in the first place. 

Eve could imagine Villanelle’s former lovers. Had seen two in the flesh and she could sense the dissonance there. She was sure there’d been no one daring enough, no one cunning enough to give Villanelle what she really wanted. To take care only of her and forgo their own desires. There couldn’t possibly have been any one more invested in her happiness and pleasure. Eve wanted to give all of this to her. 

Villanelle saunters towards Eve with a smirk, stopping to pour more champagne into her glass and encouraging her to drink again before standing directly in between her legs. 

“You’re not going to tell me? Is it something scary?” She maintains eye contact with Eve, her hazel eyes are mostly green in this light and they are open wide in suspicion. 

The alcohol is working. Eve can feel her inhibitions lowering inch by inch. It would be useless to lie. Useless and not worth the effort.

“You make me care about silly things.” 

“Silly things? Such as?”

“Shaving.”

“Shaving isn’t silly. It’s a preference.”

“Well, I care what your preference is.”

“My preference is you.” And to confirm this notion Villanelle captures Eve’s mouth in a kiss. Eve yields to it instantly as the familiar taste of Villanelle tongue sends a jolt of arousal deep within her gut. 

“You say that now.” Eve whispers back upon her lips. 

“I love your hair . . . I’m into all of it.” Eve has half a mind to believe her. With the way she keeps kissing her. With the way her hands can’t stop rubbing every bit of exposed skin.

Her hands make their way to the back of Eve’s bra and she expertly unhooks the clasp. The cool air makes her shiver and goosebumps begin to pimple her skin. Villanelle pulls her closer encapsulating her in the warmth of her robe as her mouth makes a path down Eve's neck. She finally settles against her breasts and at this point Eve’s body is on sensory overload. Villanelle’s tongue lavishes circles around a pale brown nipple and Eve’s mind is ready to combust with the amount of pleasure it brings her. Her sex clenches with want. Desperate to be recognized in this game of foreplay.

“Trust me Eve. Is it too soon to ask that of you?”

“No.” She trusted Villanelle completely.

“Then trust me.” Villanelle whispers, allowing her hands to roam down the inside of Eve’s thighs. “I will take excellent care of you.” And just like that Eve’s underwear were ruined . . . had been ruined, who is she kidding? She squirms underneath Villanelle’s touch, wrapping her legs around her waist to bring their mouths back together. Eve’s hands find their way into the loosely tied bathrobe and Villanelle actually shivers when Eve rakes her blunt nails down the woman’s back. 

It is an overwhelming thought, realizing how deeply she trusts Villanelle, not only with her life, but with her heart. It renders Eve more vulnerable than she’s ever allowed herself to be in her entire 40 years of existence. It was not in Eve’s nature to relinquish control. In every relationship prior she had called the shoots, she made the decisions, and she acquiesced to no one. It was an uncomfortable position to be in, trusting another person enough to care what they needed. 

“Go and take your bath.”

Villanelle instructs as she peels herself out of Eve’s grip.  
Eve is disoriented. It seems that Villanelle means to leave her and as much as she thought she wanted privacy it turns out she doesn’t want that at all. 

“Are you going to join me?” She tries to keep the question light, but she is actually begging.

“No.” 

It burns at first, but then Villanelle is still standing there waiting, and so Eve asks, “Would you like to watch me?”

Villanelle nods and waits for Eve to wiggle out of her sad excuse for underwear. She dares herself to be bold and stands there for a moment allowing Villanelle an unhindered view of her body before slowly immersing herself in the water. 

It is the perfect temperature, borderline scalding and Eve lets out a sigh of contentment. Villanelle knows her so well. 

“You know,” Villanelle starts as she moves closer to the side of the tub. She perches on the edge with her contemplative face on. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”

“About what?” 

“Seducing you into panic,” Eve scrunches up her face in confusion. “ it was more fun in my imagination.”

“I am not panicked.” Eve denies as she lathers a washcloth with some impressive Bvlgari body wash. At least she’ll smell like a lady after this. 

“What do you call it?” Villanelle challenges with a smirk. 

What did she call it? 

“Nervous.”

“Nervous panicked . . . same difference.” Villanelle easily dismisses.

“Okay, trepidatious.” Eve wasn’t panicked. She was cautious. 

“That’s apprehensive mixed with nervous so panicked. Try again.” 

“Anxious?”

“Anxiety’s root cause is nervousness which we already established is panicked so . . .”

“Fine Villanelle, I am panicked.” 

“And here’s my point! You shouldn’t be. I don’t want you to be. It’s only me.”

Eve rolls her eyes before submerging her head underwater for a brief respite. As if it could all be that simple. When she breaches the surface again Villanelle’s intense gaze meets her immediately. 

“You are always so careful Eve. Too careful. With me, you should be bold and unrelenting . . . You are brave and passionate and so fucking dangerous. I do a lot of silly things because they make me feel good. I want you to feel good too. To do whatever it is you want to do because you can.”

Eve’s eyes are closed as she allows herself the pleasure of soaking in Villanelle’s words. She is not sure if it’s Villanelles tone or the comfort that comes from a hot bath, but the words resonate deep within her. She was brave. She is brave. Brave enough to take what she wants when she wants it. She knows what she needs to do. She’s been fantasizing about this moment for years, and like Villanelle tends to do, she encourages the unnamed part of herself. Her age and experience would be her gifts to Villanelle. Her deviancy would finally be challenged. She stands up from the tub uninhibited by her former doubts. Water pools beneath her feet as she grabs Villanelle by the hand and pulls her out into the bedroom. 

The only light in the room filters from the cityscape below them. Thousands of tiny white dots glittering in the distance. Eve pulls the tie to Villanelle’s robe open and hastily drags it off of her shoulders before pushing her back onto the bed. Confidence swells within her chest as Villanelle’s smile eggs her on. Her pale skin is illuminated by the shimmering city lights. Firm pert breasts harden to erect peaks as her chest heaves with anticipation. This is what Villanelle wants. She can tell by the fire behind her eyes. She wants to submit to Eve, for her to take control. 

Villanelle was here. She is who Eve wanted. And she was hers. Villanelle would tell you herself that she was Eve’s. It was time to let go. To allow the finale shift and give into her desires. 

“I am going to fuck you senseless.” Is Eve’s promise as she crawls her body atop of Villanelle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be too upset. We are taking it there in the next chapter. I promise.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Somehow we made it to 2021 and I can only hope that this year brings us loads more Killing Eve content. Hahahaha. I thought editing these chapters over the holidays would be easy. I was wrong. I struggled editing this with a massive NYE hangover. I almost lost hope. But here we are. Bumped this baby up to E. Villanelle's POV. Please enjoy.

Villanelle awoke for the third time that morning to Eve finally sleeping. She was laying on her stomach with her dark hair splayed however it desired, most of it completely covering her face. She made a move to tuck a rather unruly curl behind Eve’s ear, but quickly thought better of it. Her hands hovering above the now soul object of her desires. She wouldn’t risk it, Eve needed her rest. She’d more than earned it. 

She snuck out of the bed with measured stealth, like the trained assassin she was, tiptoeing across the carpet before her feet met the chilled tiles of the bathroom floor. 

Villanelle regarded her reflection in the mirror. Not too bad. Her eyeliner looked better the next day as it sometimes does and her skin (aside from a few bruised love bites) was glowing from a night of multiple orgasms. All in all she looks well ravished and it suits her mood completely.

She makes quick work of freshening up as she has plans. Devious, delicious, dastardly plans. She’s out of D words and almost laughs aloud because she is happy enough to laugh at stuff she’s making up in her head. 

Eve had been amazing. Villanelle knew she’d be amazing. But how amazing has literally got her freaking out and dancing alone to herself in the mirror. 

She needs someone to talk to. Another person to call to share in her unbridled excitement. The only person she can think of is Eve and for whatever reason that makes her dance a little more. Being happy was not overrated. Naked dancing was fun and fuck they needed more clothes and an actual plan, but she’d handle that soon enough.

She stalked back into the bedroom in her refreshed form. Still nude and now newly moisturized with her hair combed and her teeth brushed. Appearing effortlessly beautiful took a hell of a lot of work, but she wanted to appear effortless for Eve. It seemed she valued that aspect in Villanelle. More so it seemed she desired it and what was the point of having a lover if not to have your desires fulfilled?

The sun had begun its ascent into the sky. It barely peaked over the horizon, but a soft glow of pink light filtered unabashed through the windows.

Villanelle hadn’t had time to appreciate the romantic quality of their suite the night before. Bright white liens and rich mahogany posts draped in sensuous silky fabric gave the bed room an airy ornate charm. The plush duvet laid in a thick heap upon the floor, it was littered with fluffy down throw pillows that had only served to get in the couples way the night before. 

Eve’s sleeping position has remained unchanged save that the sheet that once covered up her shoulders has now slipped quite far down her back. The scar on her left shoulder blade is now on display and it makes Villanelle’s heart pinch. 

She has no frame of reference for the feeling of regret, but she knew anger and she was angry with herself. Angry for blemishing Eve’s perfect skin. It was akin to branding. They both had marked the other and so another part of her laughed because they were both possessive assholes with mismatching battle wounds. How romantic. 

The sunlight beams across the back of Eve’s body and it gives her an ethereal glow. The tender slope of her buttocks is now exposed and Villanelle eyes it hungrily. All that skin free for the taking and all Villanelle wants to see is her face. She wants to look into Eve’s eyes and rub her lips all over the woman’s cheeks. 

She carefully attempts to reintegrate herself into the bed, sliding in one leg at a time and gingerly resuming her previous spot. Eve’s arm is in the way so she has no choice but to lift it, delicately draping the limb across her midsection.

On reflex Eve pulls her in closer and Villanelle is content to lay there a while longer. She snuggles her face into the mound of Eve’s hair and wonders how she’s supposed to get anything done ever again. 

She takes a hand and runs it through the back of Eve’s curls, giving her scalp a little massage until she feels the woman succumbing to consciousness. Her hips wiggle a little before she stretches her warm body out against Villanelle with a yawn. 

“How do you smell so good?” Eve’s voice is deep and it reverberates around Villanelle. Her body cues itself alive to the sound. Every nerve ending is now standing at attention. She’s sore and yet still desperately throbbing for more. 

Eve rolls onto her side to meet Villanelle face to face. Her eyes are still heavy from sleep as she repositions her head to rest upon the blonde’s chest. 

“Who wakes up smelling like flowers?” Eve questions and Villanelle smiles brightly, happy that her efforts had not gone unnoticed.

“Good Morning baby.” Villanelle purrs. Eve eyes her with her eyebrows quirked. 

“I’m your baby now?” Eve is fucking cheeky and it should be annoying, but Villanelle loves it. Who wants to be in control all the time? She most certainly did not. People expected this of her, but not Eve. 

“You called me honey yesterday.” Villanelle responds easily with her hand still playing in Eve’s hair.

“Yes, but you called me daddy last night.” 

Instead of responding Villanelle moves the hand that was wrapped across Eve’s back around to her breast. She palms the flesh in her hand before burying her head into Eve’s neck. She kisses the skin there and then bites down rather hard with her teeth. Eve gasps in surprise. It’s short, high pitched, and catches in her chest. Eve makes a move to flip on top of her, but Villanelle catches her by the thigh and presses her body back into the mattress. 

“I enjoyed last night . . . sooo much, but I never got my turn.” 

Villanelle had spent a lot of time fantasizing about this moment. Waking up to Eve naked in her bed. She’d spent countless hours dreaming of ways to ravage Eve’s body and make her useless for anyone else. She understands Eve’s tendency toward masochism, but the dominance that that would entail has no place in this moment. She has so much to prove. Making Eve trust her devotion and protection is most important to her.

Her hand brushes down the smooth expanse of Eve’s stomach, moving lower to finally settle on a soft patch of curls. Eve is already impossibly hot; the warmth of her core radiates out in waves. Villanelle wants Eve to climb upon her face, she wants the woman’s juices to drip down her chin, she wants to choke on it, but subtly is key.

She settles on cupping her hand against Eve’s wetness. She thrums her fingers against Eve’s lips and relishes in the response it gives her. 

“Don’t be a tease.” Eve’s breath tickles against her ear. She squirms at the attention pushing her center deeper into Villanelle’s palm.

“You're so wet.” Villanelle remarks and Eve’s response is immediate. She grinds her center down further into Villanelle’s hand. She is moaning again, raspy needy moans that hit Villanelle directly between her legs. She squeezes her own thighs together and focuses on the wet slick of arousal now coating her palm. 

She nudges Eve’s legs apart with her knee and uses the leverage to push three fingers deep inside. Eve sighs out her name as her walls contract around Villanelle’s hand. Eve’s upper body stretches against the bed sheets as her knees fall open and pull her legs closer to her chest. Her eyes are still closed and her cheeks are flushed. 

Villanelle is playing lazy, swirling her fingers inside of Eve, feeling out a pattern based on the woman’s responses. She presses a little to the left and feels Eve’s muscles grip her tighter. She twists her fingers more to the right and the woman’s entire body spasms. She’d found the right spot. 

Eve’s breathing becomes heavy and the pace is uneven. Villanelle knows she needs more. Something to grind against, some sort of friction and so she allows her thumb to begin rubbing against the woman’s throbbing clit. 

Villanelle loves Eve more than anything and it shows in her movements. With Eve it wasn’t about asserting dominance, it was about being as physically connected to each other as possible. So she doesn’t change her position. She doesn’t flip them around or tie her down or inflict pain in a way that could be pleasurable. She only concentrates on them, on their shared connection, on each breath that Eve exhales and every moan held in her throat. 

Eve whimpers and Villanelle knows she is ready for more. She switches up the swirling motion, curling her fingers and pressing graciously deeper before slowly pulling back out. Eve is gasping now. Her hips are moving in tune with each thrust. There’s a squishy slapping sound reverberating through the room and it is like music to the blonde’s ears.

Eve’s arms encircle behind her neck and Villanelle takes the moment to allow their lips to meet in a kiss. It’s surreal to be allowed to kiss Eve like this, like she has desired for so long. To allow herself to be tasted and prodded in one of the most basic of missionary poses, but it has never felt so powerful, so life affirming, or so damn intimate. 

Eve has blossomed open for her. Her hand is completely inside up to her wrist. Her strokes hit deep and all of Eve’s body is on display for her. Her small breasts bounce in sync with their rhythm.

She can't resist bending down to kiss Eve’s lips again. Eve eagerly accepts her by biting down into her lower lip and dragging it from out between her teeth with a pop. She’s still breathing in Eve’s exhales and the lack of oxygen is making her light headed. 

It’s not enough for Villanelle, she wants to taste her. It’s a split second decision to remove her hands to grip upon Eve’s waist. Eve groans more from the sudden lack of fulfillment than being handled roughly. Her brown eyes grow wide in surprise and she giggles once she recovers only to have Villanelle surprise her again when she grabs the back of her legs to pull her further down the mattress. She drapes each leg over her shoulders before taking a moment to survey her prize.

Eve’s sex is pulsating, begging to be touched, and so Villanelle wastes no time dragging her tongue through the silky warm center. Eve is tangy and delicious, her small hands make their way into Villanelle’s hair, pulling at her scalp as her back arches off the bed. 

“ooo fuck.” Eve stammers. Her body tensing as a shiver of pleasure rolls through her. 

Villanelle holds her hips in place as her tongue dives into depths, kissing and licking and drawing tight little circles. Villanelle’s name keeps spilling from Eve’s lips. She won’t last long and instead of drawing it out further she presses her fingers back into Eve’s entrance, curling two fingers deep inside to be engulfed by a wet heat.

She’s lost in the taste, in the smell, in the sound. Her hand is coated in a milky liquid that drips down her wrists. She can feel Eve contracting against her fingers, her thighs grip tightly around Villanelle’s head, before her body goes rigid and she screams out in ecstasy. 

Of course Villanelle is nowhere near done, but she allows Eve some time to recover. Her belly is taut and still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm. Villanelle watches the ripples of her abs contracting and she must admit that she is mighty pleased with herself. She takes her time cleaning Eve up with her tongue. Lapping up the arousal at a languid pace. 

She begins placing soft kisses along Eve’s inner thigh. She lathers her tongue against the exceptionally pale skin there before slowly extracting her fingers. Eve’s exhale is long and deep and Villanelle must have really been amazing because she hasn’t spoken since screaming Villanelle’s name and a lot of random obscenities. 

She pulls Eve to sit in her lap and the woman clings to her. Her short legs wrap easily around Villanelle’s midsection before their mouths clash in a kiss. Eve accepts Villanelle greedily, pulling their bodies flush. She grabs at Villanelle’s wrist pushing it back down between their bodies and Villanelle smiles while pausing the progress. 

“Hello lover.” Villanelle gushes as she rests her forehead against Eve, so close their noses are touching.

“Ho-” It garbled and Eve has to clear her throat. “How long have you been waiting to say that?” 

“Too long.” Villanelle punctuates with more kisses. 

“I - gosh.” Villanelle’s cheeks flush with warmth as Eve has yet to catch her breath. “I have never come that hard from oral sex.”

“Never?” The admission is shocking enough for Villanelle to stop her hand's progression again. She pulls back some to look Eve in the eyes. She shakes her head instead of responding as if the admission is something to be ashamed of. 

Villanelle is more than happy to be the first. Oral sex, in the morning, is her all time favorite types of sex. The haze of sleep is like a sensitivity enhancer. Every breath and touch sparks sensations up and down her nerve endings and now thinking about it maybe she let Eve off too easy. 

“What the hell was the mustache doing?” It is a thought that comes tumbling out of her mouth before she can think better of it. 

“I have no idea.”

Why in the hell was she asking about Eve’s ex? Her face is still sticky with Eve’s cum, how tackless could she get? But now that she started she found she couldn't stop. 

“But you married him.” It is a statement that Eve answers like a question. 

“Yeap.” 

Villanelle had been experiencing things . . . sensations, feelings, emotions. It was all overwhelming. Nothing could have prepared her for the intensity of love. The idea had floated around her, enticing her with its scent, but it always faded quickly. She loved clothing, jewelry, expensive dinners, and designer bags. Things that could never return her affections. Things that only took from her, depleted her. Even people she thought loved her. No one could stand to be alone with her for more than ten minutes. Now she had Eve. She’d waited all this time to finally find her and the thought of keeping her has Villanelle scared to shit. 

“Where’d you go?” Eve’s hand lightly traces Villanelle’s facial features, fingers brushing along her eyebrow and sliding gently across her cheek. The woman’s own face is pulled tight, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“No place. Are you hungry?” It is an attempt at deflection. She needed a minute to get her shit together and food seemed like the least obvious track to take.

“I thought we’d ... You know?” Eve rubs herself onto Villanelle's stomach suggestively and it should have done the trick, but visions of Eve with her husband who she at one point loved but maybe didn’t anymore? Are now invading every thought so she tries to distract with food again. 

“Well shocker for you. I eat a lot. The bruschetta here is amazing.”

“You know I am not talking about food.”

“Sooo no bruschetta? It’s on a grilled sourdough with eggs and capers.” 

Eve stays silent and allows her rambling to continue.

“I used to hate capers and then I learned they were pickled rosebuds. Who knew?” 

“I did.” Eve deadpans 

“Oh ...” Villanelle is lost to her thoughts again as she tries to find a strategy that might work.

Eve sighs falling back onto the bed and away from Villanelle. Who in turn, has a panic attack. It feels like the breath has been knocked out of her and she gasps for air but her lungs continue to collapse upon themselves. She tries to steady her pounding heart. She’d often had episodes like this when she was blindingly angry, but she wasn’t angry and so she did not understand what was happening. 

Eve jumps to action upon hearing her pained gasps. Her arms are around Villanelle in an instant rubbing encouraging circles upon her back and her lips peppering the woman’s face with kisses. 

“It’s okay. Just breathe. Just breathe, slowly in and out.” And only at Eve’s insistence does her body acquiesce. Gradually it allows oxygen to circulate back through her system. 

“Eve, everything is fucked.”

“I know.” 

“Do you? We cannot sleep here another night. It isn’t safe. You should have stayed with your husband. I should have left with Konstantin.”

“Slow down.” Eve's tone is aggressive and Villanelle sees that she clearly does not understand. 

“I am not allowed to love anyone Eve. They will use you against me.” Here come the tears again. She can feel her eyes heavy to the brim. Apparently the flip side to sheer happiness was utter depression.

“Who are they? The 12?”

“Who knows?! Sure the 12! I killed someone yesterday.”

Eve’s mouth drops open. “What?” 

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“No no you’re reading my face wrong. It is just ... when did you find the time?”

“The time found me.” 

“Who?”

“My new handler’s pet. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Villanelle had known she would have to kill Rhian the moment she met her. She didn’t know it would happen so soon, but it did so whatever. 

“You’re worried about that coming back at you?”

Villanelle was not worried about herself. That she knew how to handle.

“Honestly, they are severely incompetent.”

Eve throws her hands up in the air out of obvious frustration. 

“I'm trying to follow you here, but you're all over the place. Are they strategic or incompetent?”

“Both. They are also patient and resourceful. I know I can out smart them. I’ve done it before.”

“Then what is the problem?”

It was one thing to say I love you, it was another thing to feel it. To have the security of it rushing through the air of your shared space. She was desperate to protect this feeling between them . 

“Things were different then.” 

Eve’s eyes light up with understanding.

“You’re worried about me.”

Villanelle’s soul purpose in life was now vested in protecting Eve’s happiness. In procuring it for her in the first place. 

“I have never had to protect anyone before.”

Eve’s response is simple. “Well if Konstantin can figure out how to elude them so can we.”

“He’s quite cunning actually. Cowardly and cunning.” 

Eve huffs.

“Villanelle, it sounds to me like today might be the last we have to ourselves for a while. I need you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Eve!” This is not where she saw this conversation going, but Eve was insistent. 

“I understand that you have your worries, they are legitimate, but I won’t be able to think properly until I have you inside of me again. Can you focus on this.” Eve crawls onto her hands and knees and looks at Villanelle over her shoulder. Her pink swollen center is now back on display. It is glossy from want and Villanelle is amazed that she would still want to receive her. But her pupils are blown wide and her chest is heaving. 

Villanelle catches a whiff of her scent in the air and it snaps her mind back into focus. What was the point of worrying with Eve’s naked body in her arms?

Eve leans even further back into Villanelle’s body by pressing off of her hands and balancing on her knees. Villanelle allows it and repositions herself pulling Eve impossibly closer. Eve’s head twists up to meet her mouth in a kiss. 

“Okay you win.” Villanelle offers between kisses. Her hand now pinches the pebbled skin of Eve’s breast. “I will start worrying after we check out.” She then uses her hands to force Eve’s face down into the mattress while keeping her ass up in the air. She gives it a little smack for good measure and yes she is really going to enjoy this. 

“Don’t worry so much about my safety Villanelle. Even you couldn’t kill me.”

And Villanelle concedes that maybe she does have a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me two weeks for the last update kiddos. Thank you sooo much for your continued support. And seriously, let's get ready to kick 2021's ass. xoxo


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ladies continue their little honeymoon while formulating a plan. Eve's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Welcome to our finale chapter. I wrote the first four chapters of this right after the finale. Any further chapters would require me to delve into actual plot territory. I wanted this to be just about their growth as a couple. So I hope you enjoy this one. Thank you for your support thus far and I’ll be back. I promise.

XXX

“Ooo . . . Eve.” Villanelle’s voice sighs out in a moan for what seems like the hundredth time that day. They’d been at this for hours now. Eve isn’t sure how she ended up on the side of the bed on her knees in this way, but balancing both of their weights was starting to become a problem. Villanelle’s legs are draped over her shoulders, her ass is half hanging off the bed and her feet are crossed behind Eve’s neck. Eve presses her tongue deep inside of Villanelle and the heels of her feet dig graciously into Eve’s back. She can feel the soft ridges of Villanelle’s sex tightening around her before she pulls her tongue back out to make figure eight sweeps around the woman’s clit. 

“You like the taste of my pussy don’t you?” Villanelle goads in her heaviest Russian accent. It seems she was really into dirty talk. Which Eve could appreciate. It was easier for her to cue into what was working. Eve flattens her tongue and allows it to move with her head, up and down as she nods yes for an answer. It makes Villanelle’s entire body shutter and so she eases up a bit. She wanted Villanelle to last longer.

Eve did indeed love the taste of Villanelle. She was now officially obsessed with cunnilingus. Maybe she’d been super gay all her life, or maybe Villanelle was a sex fucking goddness whose pull influenced her to unusual behavior, either way Eve was ravenous. She swirled her tongue around the woman’s opening, gathering the slick there and spreading it evenly about. Villanelle was sweet and finished tart, similar to a pineapple or a cherry. Everything was so pink and so soft and so smooth. Eve loved the demands and the faces she made. She loved the octave Villanelle’s voice rose to just before she came. She was so entranced that she had no idea how to stop. 

She presses her nose against the warm sink of Villanelle’s pulsating center, nuzzling about before allowing her lips to pull Villanelle’s clit into her mouth. 

“Right there Eve. Fuucck. Right there.” Eve indulges her. Sucking and licking with a constant pressure that has Villanelle squirming and gasping out.

“More. Please. Please. Please.”

Villanelle’s begging gives Eve an idea to alleviate the pressure on her knees. She splays her hands wide up on Villanelle’s backside and repositions her own legs to come to a seated position. Villanelle’s body slides fully off of the bed and straight into her lap. Eve moves quickly to lay on her back and she then pulls Villanelle’s body forward.

“Sit on my-”

She barely has the words out before Villanelle is lowering her dripping center on top of her face. She settles for a moment in stillness and Eve flicks her tongue out a few times encouraging Villanelle to release more of her weight. Eve’s fingers find purchase in the pliable flesh of her ass. It urges Villanelle to start a rhythm. She rocks her body forward and grinds down with more pressure, enough pressure to cut off Eve’s air supply. 

“Fuck me Eve. Fuck me.” 

Villanelle’s movements are more desperate now, but she leans back for a moment to allow Eve to gasp for air before rocking forward and pressing most of her weight back down. She creates a smooth friction upon Eve’s nose, lips and chin. Eve grips the inside of each thigh and stretches Villanelle even further open and she cries out Eve’s name in return.

Eve was an anxious person by nature. There were so many variables in life. So many things to ascertain. So many outcomes. Her mind never stilled. It allowed her no peace. But in these moments of passion with Villanelle it is as if her anxieties are shut off. There’s only the constant hum of her heart beat and a pleasurable sensation racing through her veins.

Her hands travel up to play with Villanelle’s breasts. She flicks her finger tips around one while pinching the other and soon enough she feels Villanelle’s body spasm. Eve is light headed, completely blissed out, she can faintly hear Villanelle moaning and then there’s nothing. 

“Eve! Eve?”

Eve cracks her eyes open and has no idea why Villanelle is hovering over her looking so distressed. 

“What the hell Eve!” Villanelle pushes roughly at her shoulders as she moves to stand. 

“What?” Things are fuzzy. She too moves to stand, but the world is spinning so she has to stay in place.

“You win. Okay? You win. I’m tapping out.” Villanelle is pacing back and forth across the bedroom with her hand pressed against her head as if she were trying to figure out an impossible problem. She was entirely too wound up to have orgasmed mere moments ago. Eve was of course counting. This would make a total of seven orgasms for Villanelle. 

“But you’re so close to ten! You bet me tha-”

“I just suffocated you.” 

“Hun?”

“You passed out! Underneath me, Eve. Not even on purpose . . . I am done.”

“I fainted?” Villanelle glares back at her hard. 

“You were holding your breath! I am not that heavy!”

“What? No I wasn’t?” It comes out more as a question because Eve wasn't really sure now. All she knows is that she felt amazing. So powerful and fabulous, and God! This is what winning felt like. 

From this angle on the ground Eve can clearly see every love bite littering Villanelle’s skin. Villanelle’s body was enrapturing no matter the circumstance and it was as if Eve had morphed into a sex demon. She is immediately distracted. Too distracted to really care about anything seriously. Villanelle must have noticed the shift in her eyes, for she is shaking her head no again. 

“Eve, I know you like torturing yourself, but you’ve got to be more careful.” Eve moves to stand again and successfully makes it all the way up this time. Her eyes scan their living quarters. The room is a mess. The bed has all but been destroyed. The sheets have been ripped off and it is quite apparent that they’d been having a very good time. She peels her eyes away from that scene to find Villanelle staring with a curious look about her. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Eve offers sincerely. 

“I think I might be impressed, but I like you much better conscious.” She pulls Villanelle’s back into her arms and they meet in a kiss. It is instinctual at this point. Their mouths now moving in sync and Eve’s body could just melt in this spot. 

“Let’s take a shower.” It’s the dramatic change in mood that has Eve struggling to keep up.

“Together?” 

“You’d let me take one alone?” Villanelle questions incredulously.

“I mean sure. I don’t necessarily want to.”

“So why even ask? Come on.”

XXX

A shower had been the best idea. Really it was just another excuse to touch each other. Whatever trauma Villanelle had endured at seeing her unconscious seemed irrelevant to her now. Eve has got to add making out with Villanelle, under the spray of a hot shower, as one of her all time favorite things. She normally abhorred shower sex, but Villanelle is pressing her back into the title and Eve’s leg is hooking around her waist.

“I thought you were tapping out?” 

“I did. This is about you.” 

Villanelle’s mouth moves to her chest and it feels so amazing to have Villanelle biting down on her breast with the humidity of the water surrounding them. Maybe hotel shower sex was better because the water never ran cold? Who was she kidding? Sex with Villanelle was masterful and fucking poetry. She intrinsically understood Eve’s body and she took great care in coaxing out desires and fulfilling them in kind.

“No holding your breath this time. You’ve got to talk to me.”

And Eve sighs out because she’d been doing it again. She tended to hoard all of her feelings inside under a great deal of tension. Villanelle’s fingers press into her gently and and she is raising up to her tip toes and, fuck it. She encircles her arms around the taller woman’s neck and wraps her other leg around her as well. Eve catches a whimper in her throat and she battles to release it. To breathe deeply in and out. 

“Do you like that?” Villanelle’s fingers are pulling in a forward motion inching deeper and deeper. 

“Mmmmm” Was the best Eve could manage as a familiar burning in her gut threatened to spill over. There’s a crescendo effect of pleasure battling throughout Eve’s body. Everything feels so damn good. She tries to keep it back. Wanting to hold onto the feelings for longer, but Villanelle is edging her further along. 

“Louder.” Villanelle demands. And okay. She could try to vocalize her feelings. She could try to exhale and find something sexy to say, but all she manages to let out is.

“Yes!” Because Villanelle’s fingers have found the spongy flesh of her g spot and all rational thought vacates her body. She sets a quicker pace that is focused more on massaging that part of Eve. 

“More Eve. Don’t hold back.” 

Villanelle gives her more. Filling her deeply and curling her fingers over and over. It was mind blowing. She could sing out loud to the heavens. And it is like, is she embarrassed? How could she be embarrassed? Everything felt so delicious and Villanelle’s fingers were stroking at just the right spot and her mouth falls open, eradicated from its filter. 

“Damn it. Yesss Villanelle. Baby!” The excitement is now palatable. Villanelle is enthusiastically pressing into her with great force. “Fuck the shit out of me. Oh my god. Baby. Yes!” 

Eve orgasms and it is like her body explodes open. There is a warm rush of liquid clearly distinguishable from the water now spraying against Villanelle’s back. Villanelle’s fingers keep pressing in and out of her and she keeps on squirting and the feeling is indescribable. It’s causing the most obscene sounds and it is all worth the embarrassment to see the excited look on Villanelle’s face.

“Whoa! Good thing we are in the shower hun?”

Eve has half a mind to be mortified. She’d recently read an article about female ejaculate possibly being pee? She’d basically just peed on her (is it even okay to think this) girlfriend’s (ahhhh! ) hand. But Villanelle is super into it. She looks proud of herself. She’s smiling so hard her cheeks are eclipsing her eyes.

“I’m mildly embarrassed. That hasn’t happened in decades.”

Villanelle pouts “I’m not the first?”

“Sorry kid. I beat you to it with a pink rabbit dildo I use to call Fred.”

“That can’t count.” 

XXX

“You should let me comb it.” Villanelle’s hazel eyes are glassy, possibly mesmerized at the aspect of styling Eve’s hair. 

“You don’t comb my hair.” Eve can feel her eyes rolling because, you only know if you know.

“I can now since it’s wet. I can brush it back into a ponytail. Of course it will be a lot more posh than you’re used to.”

Eve misses the insult completely. 

“The curls tame for no one.” 

“Trust me.” 

Eve stares at Villanelle’s foggy reflection in the bathroom mirror. She has procured a brush seemingly out of thin air and Eve recoils at the sight. 

“Whoa. Not a real brush!” 

“I’m giving you a swoop, move your hand.” 

Eve fights her for a second, ducking out of dodge, but Villanelle is quicker. Her arms wrap around from behind and she binds Eve in place. They are beyond the point of rushing. Even though they should have checked out of the hotel a couple of hours ago. Villanelle threw money at the situation and so they could leave when they pleased. 

“Do you promise to stay still if I let you go?”

Eve nods and Villanelle turns her away from the mirror before getting back to work. The torture is over relatively quickly and Eve’s scalp is still intact.

“Tada.” The blonde announces as she spins Eve back toward the mirror and, whoa Villanelle has a secret hairdressing skill because this ponytail is sleek and makes her look rather fetching. 

“You like it. I can tell. I know. I do great work.” Villanelle pats her on the shoulder with a cocky grin.

“Yeah, but where am I going?” 

“Actually, I have a plan.”

Knock knock

Eve jumps. 

“Relax babe.” Villanelle soothes “ It’s just Bernie.” 

“Bernie?” Eve questions while pulling on her robe. 

“I had him do our bidding.” 

Villanelle dashes to the door and in saunters Bernie with . . . food? Oh thank God! And a rack of couture shopping bags. Eve is really just out done with the non poorness of her supposedly poor girlfriend. There was that word again. Girlfriend? Assassin friend? 

“Don’t be angry, it looks like more than it is.” Villanelle explains with the guiltiest look on her face.

“When did you have the time?”

“You fell asleep for awhile.”

“Good afternoon Mrs. Bouton. Your hair sure does look nice!” Villanelle is doing a little dance, hardly able to contain herself. 

“Aha! I told you freaking so.”

“Thank you Bernie.” Eve responses kindly. Maybe she had judged him too harshly last night. And yes this is how much an attitude can change after a night of mind blowing sex. 

Villanelle turns her attention back to Bernie “Yes, thank you friend.” She walks him out to the door no doubt handing him a tip he possibly did deserve this time, before closing the suite door behind her. 

“First step to the plan, food.”

Eve eyes the covered trays warily. “What did you get us?” She wanted pasta. She really hoped Villanelle got her pasta. 

“There weren’t many vegetarian options. Which is unacceptable for a place like this don’t you think?”

“So day two and you’re sticking with it?”

“That is correct.” Villanelle hops over to the food and starts to pull off the tray covers. “I got us salad because we should be healthy, and mushroom risotto because that is what I’ve been reduced to. I did the lamb ragù for you. Oh and mango cheesecake that we have to split.”

“I love you so much for ordering me pasta.” 

“I’ve been watching you eat noodles out of a cup for weeks. I figured I’d upgrade your life.”

Eve laughs out loud at herself. Here she thought her craving had been original.

“Stalker.”

“But you love me!”

“I do.” Eve couldn't help noting that this was the start to their happily ever after. Whatever decision they chose today would be in the pursuit of persevering their life together.

“So we are like, official girlfriends now or?”

“I mean. Yes girlfriends. . . What, do you want to be my wife or something?”

“No no. I just. I keep thinking about you as my girlfriend in my head and I- I didn't want to assume.”

“You’re my person Eve. We’ve been through this right? Of course you're my girlfriend.” Eve warms at this. Happily ever after was off to a good start so far.

“Okay so the first step is eating. What’s next?”

“I figured maybe we could watch a movie while we eat?” 

Eve wouldn’t have objected to the idea had Villanelle not had a panic attack about their safety a view hours prior. Her sex demon was tamed and had abated her mind leaving her thoughts more processed and level headed. 

“I thought we had to be out here.”

“We do, but we also have to eat. We won’t fuss about the movie. We will watch whatever is on.”

“I have a feeling I shouldn’t fight you on this, so whatever is on and I’m picking the channel.”

“Deal.”

“TCM.”

Villanelle goes to find the remote and flicks swiftly to the channel. Grace Kelly is sitting on James Stewart's lap and Villanelle starts squealing.

“Ohh Hitchcock! Perfect.”

“I actually know this one.” Eve pulls her plate of pasta into her lap as Villanelle makes her way back over to the couch. She stops at the salad and spears a forkful soon bringing it over to Eve mouth.

“Just this forkful at least. Your colon will thank you.” And Eve lets herself be fed the offending green vegetables with little fuss. 

In no time James is trying to defend himself from his murderous neighbor with the bright flash of his camera bulb. Villanelle is screaming at the screen. Telling him to crawl out of the apartment and how could he be such a dumb ass. It is such a pleasure to see the enjoyment on her face. Villanelle’s head has made its way into her lap and she looks up at Eve with a sigh.

“That was fun. You must promise me we will do this often.”

Eve kisses the tip of her nose. “I promise.”

“Okay. enough of that.” Villanelle shakes herself out of her sentimental mood. “Second step is clothing.”

“Looks like you have everything covered there, oh masterful one.”

Villanelle starts pulling open the bags. There’s two luggage carriers, four high quality organic cotton tees, four cashmere sweaters, a down coat for her, two pairs of jeans, and the most luxurious underwear. 

“We’ve got a couple of things to rotate through now. We will have to pick up toiletries once we leave.”

“So what exactly is step three?”

“I have a friend in Lyon. He can get us passports. He owes me a favor.” Eve quirks her eyebrow because involving other people sounded like trouble. 

“We can ride the train there tonight. I have another safe box that way too to tide us over until we can get to the states.”

“So you’re taking me back to America?”

“As close to Russia as you can get.”

“Alaska?!” Eve tries and fails not to sound too hopeful. 

“You sound excited. I picked okay again?”

“I’ve spent the past year dreaming about what my life would have looked like had I said yes to you in Rome.”

“We will be better this time. The more I thought about it last night it was always a solid plan. Easy to execute.”

“I'd follow you anywhere. You've got to know that." The blond smiles back at her with a shy little nod "When do we leave?”

“As soon as you get dressed.”

Eve takes her time changing. More than sentimental about her time spent in the suite. She was emerging from it an entirely different person. She was no longer worried about what she was becoming, she was eager to be that new person now. With a grown up hair style and fancy important women leisure wear. Most importantly she was leaving as Villanelle’s partner. She was more than ready to leave the hell of the 12 in the dust and step into her new life with the reformed assassin. 

XXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always greatly appreciated. Until next time friends! xoxo


End file.
